———
Amos was beside himself at the damaged gown.
“Please, it’ll be on every cover going. McQueen will be delighted.”
“Never,” he snarled, “do that again. I could have had you in a normal, perfectly ruinable dress in minutes.”
“Okay, okay. Noted.”
“And where is the bloody bag for this?”
I sensed he was a few seconds away from swearing in his mother’s French, which was always a bad sign.
“I don’t know,” I winced. “I was drunk when I left. I don’t really remember. Now can you stop shouting? I’m hungover.”
Ah, and there those expletives were.
“You are irresponsible. I’m banning you from nice gowns. You’ll wear a sack to your next red carpet, so help me god.”
“You wouldn’t let me do that for the KCAs,” I muttered.
Oh, a second wave of curses, this even more virulent than the first.
Nadine 2, Harper 0. Nadine Heywood Scoops BAFTA and Goes Home with Harper Moore’s Ex-Fiancé All in One Night—Ouch!
Mooregram on the Rocks? Sources Close to Couple Say There May Be Trouble in Paradise with Jealousy Row Following Krausewood Hookup
Oscar Nominations Announced! WithIn Your Own WayandWilder OnesSet to Dominate, All Eyes Are on Best Actress Nominees Harper Moore and Nadine Heywood
My phone vibrated so violently it fell off the vanity table, snapping open in the process, and I could hear Ruchi down the line, distant and excited—breaking the news I already held in my hands.
I was obsessive about headlines now.
A distraction—and here this was. And what a distraction—the sort my former hopes and dreams were built on.
But I couldn’t do this now. Couldn’t stare the cameras down. Couldn’t ignite a feud already burnt to cinders and ash.
I couldn’t see Harper with the whole world watching and pretend I didn’t know how her husband’s blood felt beneath my nails or the precise blue of his lips. I didn’t know where we stood, didn’t know how I felt about any of this (no, what Ifeltwas delirious, out of control, like I was careening too quickly to make sense of anything and growing dizzier still with every effort to focus on that fixed, still Harper-shaped point in the center).
Could I really stand on that carpet, knowing I’d gone to such lengths for her and pretend there was a line somewhere that I wouldn’t cross for her?
(Why wouldn’t I?)
I threw the newspaper at the wall, pages scattering across the floor.
Fuck.
February 2003
I FLEW BACK TO LA THE EVENING AFTER THE OSCAR nominations landed. I twitched with every step through the airport, convinced someone was going to tackle me to the ground and keep me from leaving. When I landed, I jumped in a cab straight to Ivan’s.
“Nadine? What are you—”
“I’m worried I’m going to relapse.”
He didn’t even hesitate. “The spare room is all yours.”
Ivan and Annabelle’s life of domestic bliss was so far from what I left behind—pancakes on the deck, reading side-by-side in the evening and wrapped up in pressed-linen sheets by ten. But it didn’t make me relax—just made me angsty. Like they didn’t know just what sort of monster lurked in their home.Dreadbase IIlive in Malibu.
